


Key Lime and Cherry Pie

by fightforyourwrite



Category: Batman (Comics), The Flash (Comics)
Genre: Diners, F/M, Next-Gen, Pie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-12
Updated: 2018-09-12
Packaged: 2019-07-11 09:00:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15969068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fightforyourwrite/pseuds/fightforyourwrite
Summary: Irey West eats a meal with Damian Wayne.





	Key Lime and Cherry Pie

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, I got sucked into kinda shipping SpeedDemon solely for the fact that the ship name is 'SpeedDemon.'

The other patrons of a Gotham City diner paid little attention to the two ten-year-olds sitting in the corner booth. The only person who kept an eye on them happened to the be the waitress working her shift. 

The college-aged server suspecting nothing of the two. Although she did raise an eyebrow when one of them ordered a meal that could either feed a competing MMA fighter or a very stoned teenager. 

The meal was finished off with two pieces of pie, a fitting dessert for a satisfying meal. Irey had consumed her slice of key lime in due time. The crust was buttery and crumbly, and the filling was delectably sweet and infused with a mild tartness. Irey seriously considered ordering another slice. 

Damian was still poking at his piece of cherry pie long after she was done. 

As she waited for him to be done, Irey went between glancing at the city street outside the window and glancing at Damian Wayne. She had never really met him out of costume before. Their past interactions had always involved masks and symbols. 

Instead of a cape, Damian wore a sweater over a collared shirt, which made him look stuffy. Instead of a domino mask, he wore black sunglasses, which made him look formidable.

Well, as formidable as a four-foot-nothing ten-year-old could look.

Nonetheless, Irey wasn’t going to let a lack of costumes impact the way she often spoke with him.

“Weird,” Irey stated, squinting at him behind her pair of circular glasses.

Damian stopped poking at his pie for a moment. “What’s weird?”

“Seeing you act normal,” Irey noted. She reached up and pinched the temples of her glasses, a habitual occurrence of hers whenever she was deep in thought. “I’m too used to seeing you all dark and broody. It’s just strange to see you so calm.” 

“Who cares about appearing normal, West?” Damian shrugged. He dabbed the corner of his mouth with a napkin. “Just look at you. I’ve never seen anyone eat as much as you do. You eat more than my father and he’s twice your size.” 

Irey soon squinted at him, particularly at the occurrence of his newfound method of referring to her. 

“West?” she laughed, scoffing. “Come on, Rich Boy, if you’re gonna give me a nickname, you might as well just go with  _ Red. _ ” 

Damian shrugged again. “Whatever.” 

Soon enough, the waitress nearby walked over and dropped the bill down on the table. Irey grabbed it before Damian could get his little paws on the thing and gave it a quick scan.

She did her best to hide her shock. Although she was fully aware of the consequences that came with satisfying her monster of an appetite, it didn’t stop Irey from cringing upon seeing the bill. 

But before she could say anything, Damian had opened his wallet and dropped a hundred dollar note on the table. 

“This should cover it,” Damian said quite easily. 

As prideful as Irey was, she made a choice to not question his actions. 

The fact that Damian could easily produce a c-note and drop it on the counter illustrated an interesting difference between him and Irey. 

Damian’s coat was produced by Burberry, Irey’s was fished out of a clearance bin. Damian came by in a Rolls-Royce driven by a man he referred to as  _ ‘Pennyworth,’ _ Irey came over on a mix of her two feet and one of Bart’s hand-me-down skateboards. Damian’s glasses were made by Ray-Ban, Irey’s were something her mother used to wear back in the day and barely fit her. 

Irey wondered if her father or Bart had noticed differences like this before with their respective members of the Batclan.  

“I do wanna know why you asked me to have lunch with you,” Irey soon brought up, placing the bill down on the table. “I’ve been told that boys do this because they’re after one thing and one thing only.”

Damian looked confused. “And what’s that one thing?”

Irey shrugged. “I dunno, my Mom says I’ll find out once I get a little older.” 

**Author's Note:**

> You know how the old story goes: Every Bat needs a speedster friend or a redhead friend or sometimes both at the same time.


End file.
